Writing In A Cafe

I wrote in a cafe yesterday, driven out of the house by a plumbing catastrophe that resulted in too much dust and mold for my lungs to handle. My husband stayed home to oversee repairs, and I retreated first to my local library, and then, when I got hungry, to a cafe.

I have friends who write in cafes, and I could never figure out why. I like to work in solitude and silence, and cafes have neither. And yet – I had an incredibly productive writing day.

I’d picked up a copy of The Writing Warrior by Laraine Herring, and browsed it while I ate and wrote. My mind wandered from one story to another, breaking through stuck spots, to a white noise background of music and coffee machines and voices.

I’ll definitely try this again. But not today. Today I have the house to myself.

Maureen